Masquerade

masquerade

It was a masquerade, an event dedicated to deceit, the point of which to lure you to dance and interact with someone of whose appearance you knew nothing of, thanks only to the mask that was required to be worn along with all costumes.

Neville Longbottom had decided to dress as Batman, a Muggle who had no super powers, but through sheer will power, became a legend, a hero. And it was convenient, as the costume was already equipped with a mask, designed to give the wearer a bat-like appearance. Neville had always liked Batman. If Bruce Wayne could become a super hero, so could he.

The costume he had gotten was a bit loose, but Hermione Granger, a fellow Gryffindor seventh year, had arranged it to fit him better.

Fifteen minutes before he was to go down to the Great Hall, where the ball was to take place, he observed himself in the mirror. He shared a room with four other boys, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas, all of whom had dates.

Neville did not.

He was going for the sole purpose of pleasing his Grandmother, who might perhaps let up on his romantic and social life were he to attend a ball.

Neville's four roommates were all chatting merrily. Each one had dressed in simple, yet extravagant dress robes, and wore simple black masks that were tied behind their heads. He felt a little foolish in his plastic black costume with an eight-pack chest built in and various bat accessories scattered around his utility belt. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his helmet and walked out of the dormitory before the rest of his roommates had a chance. An assortment of girls in big dresses were all waiting at the bottom of the staircases in the common room, giggling and gossiping amongst themselves. Neville did his best to ignore them and just walk past, but he couldn't help but sense a few girls follow him out of the common room. He thought he even heard one girl say to her friend, "Who's that? You think he'll dance with me at the ball?"

And as he climbed out of the portrait hole, Neville swelled with pride. He shouldn't feel ridiculous... he should feel prideful.

Tonight, he was Batman.

As he walked to the Great Hall amongst all the happy, masked couples, the only teasing he received was from a group of Slytherins.

The Great Hall was spectacularly decorated. In fact, it was hardly recognizable. The five long tables usually set out for meals had disappeared and been replaced by a wide dance floor, upon which one or two early, lone couples danced to their own music. Along the edges were blue chairs for people to sit and wait for a dance. There was a shorter table at the other end on which drinks and snacks stood. Instead of magically floating candles to illuminate it, there was a giant ball filled with what appeared to be faeries, revolving near the top of the ceiling, enchanted to look like the starry night sky outside. But the most eye-catching and breathtaking of the decorations were two staircases on either side of the Great Hall, leading up to a balcony which had been added for the masquerade. Gold statues decorated the lengths of it, very regal looking with the red carpet all down the steps.

More people began to filter in, followed by "ooh"s and "aah"s. As some of them cleared from before Neville, he couldn't help but notice a girl sitting in one of the blue chairs. She blended in very well. Her dress was the same colour light blue. She had a silver belt across it with a blue stone embedded into it. A closer look told Neville it was a sapphire. Her mask was white with three black feathers emerging from the middle of it. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a delicately intricate bun, with a few curled strands falling about her face. She didn't notice Neville starring at her for a few moments before she turned her head and looked directly at him. Her eyes seemed surprised behind her mask. They were a protuberant hazel colour.

"Hello," she said to him.

He walked over to her, his confidence at a peeking level thanks only to his costume.

"Are you Batman?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"I like him, too. He gives the rest of us hope."

Neville's heart skipped. "Exactly!" he said. "Um... would you like to dance?"

"Sure," she said.

He held out his gloved hand to the girl, and she took it. Standing up, it became obvious that her dress was much larger than it seemed to be. It fit her bodice in a flattering manner, but the bottom of it fanned out, leaving a trail of about four feet behind her.

"I like this song," she said, as a slow song came on.

Neville held out his hand and she took it. He carefully placed his other hand on her waist and she put hers on his shoulder.

"This- this is nice," he said awkwardly, having never danced with a girl before.

"Will you kiss me, Neville Longbottom?" said the girl.

And slowly, very slowly, she raised her face up to his, and, like in a dream, their lips met, Batman and the Lady of the Lake.

As soon as she pulled away, and as soon as Neville was able to regain control of his tongue, he croaked the question burning within him. "Who are you?"